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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157610">warmth inside</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotalizard/pseuds/iamnotalizard'>iamnotalizard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bonding, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Dynamics, Gen, Just A Whole Lot Of Being A Dad To A Bunch Of Cool Teens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:54:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,592</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28157610</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamnotalizard/pseuds/iamnotalizard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakoda and Aang bond during a chilly, Southern evening.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aang &amp; Hakoda (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>MMEU Winter Solstice Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>warmth inside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/colorfulmagic/gifts">colorfulmagic</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>NO nastiness involved in this fic, it is GEN, it is FAMILY, don't even try it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The post-dinner quiet is soothing to Hakoda’s nearly fried nerves. He certainly won’t look a gift vulture-horse in the mouth, but an igloo near bursting with children certainly doesn’t lend itself to a calm environment. He can still remember fondly the days where he and Kya would have to put Sokka and Katara down for a nap after dinner, how they would slurp the last spoonful of broth or tear off the last morsel of meat from a bone, and almost immediately their eyes would droop until they were placed tenderly onto a bed of furs. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda surveys the igloo and smiles. Half of the teenagers are already napping, propped up against each other or the walls, books fallen open on their laps and games abandoned, and the other half are almost on their way to sound asleep, the meal in their belly’s surely keeping them warm and content. Maybe some things don’t change all that much, he thinks. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda sits, leaning at the table, and takes the moment in again. He makes sure to stifle his laugh when hears his son’s snoring, and from across the room, he can hear Katara mumble a joke about it. From the sounds of her voice, though, Hakoda knows that she’ll be snoring within a few minutes. Usually, he or Kanna or Bato would roll their eyes and shoo them away, but the winter has been cold and dark, and with his children’s friends visiting, he knows that they tire from socializing and helping the village. Zuko had been near collapsing during dinner, not used to the frigid cold, and Aang—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda purses his lips as he glances around the room. The fire illuminates the living space in a soft, warm glow, and its shadows fall on Suki, Sokka, Zuko, Toph, and Katara. Aang is nowhere to be seen. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda furrows his eyebrows as he tries to think where the boy might be: </span>
  <em>
    <span>We were eating dinner, and then we cleaned up, and then we settled down to rest, and he went out to meditate-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Hakoda’s heart rate calms and he recalls the movement of the boy, and then spikes again when he realizes how long ago that was. Even from within the warmth of his house, through the thick snow walls, Hakoda can hear the faint whistle of the wind. He pushes himself up and puts on his parka and snow boots as quietly as he can. He spares one last look backwards, taking in the comfortable scene before he exits his home to look for Aang. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He steps outside into the bitter night and is pleasantly surprised when he can already see Aang in the near distance. His back is to Hakoda, and he stops himself from just calling out to the boy. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He might be meditating still</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Hakoda thinks, as he begins the short walk towards him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The light from the igloos just barely reaches him when he gets to Aang. Hakoda stands awkwardly for a moment, unsure if he should interrupt the boy’s concentration, especially with how focused he looks. His back is rod straight and the wind must have pushed back his hood without him noticing because the tips of his ears are pink. Hakoda frowns, wondering if they’ll be able to fix Aang’s parka up to have a better fitting hood, without adding fur. Aang and Katara have tried to explain to him, that Aang can’t wear fur or leather because it’s against his culture, and Hakoda </span>
  <em>
    <span>gets </span>
  </em>
  <span>that, but he knows that the woven thing that Aang constructed for himself isn’t the best for fighting off the cold, and he just isn’t sure if anything will be as effective as the traditional ways and—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello, Hakoda,” Aang’s voice interrupts Hakoda’s train of thoughts. It’s raspy, a bit crackly, now that Aang is fourteen instead of twelve. Already he’s up to Hakoda’s shoulder, so it’s only a matter of time before he’s taller than him. “Is everything okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, Aang,” Hakoda says, “I hope I’m not interrupting you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine,” Aang says after a moment. Hakoda hums.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been out here for a while, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. It’s pretty cold out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang shifts, unfolding his legs from underneath him and pulling them up to his chest. “I’m fine… I’ll come inside in a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda frowns at Aang’s response. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d feel a lot better if you came inside now,” Hakoda says. He sees Aang slump down into himself some more. “... or if you let me sit out here with you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment Hakoda sees no indication that Aang even heard him, and then the boy nods. Hakoda crouches down to the chilly ground, his descent ungraceful. He feels the cold poking through the layers of his pants as he sits down. He lifts his hand, pauses for a moment before he places it gently on Aang’s shoulder. He gives it a firm squeeze and lets go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to tell me what’s wrong, kid?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang sighs into his knees. “It’s hard to explain.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, according to my son, I’m a genius. But then again, according to my husband, I’m an idiot.” Aang lets out a snort. “Why don’t you try me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang lets out another sigh. “I miss Monk Gyatso.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that isn’t that complicated—”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is,” Aang interrupts. “It’s just. It’s hard. I love my family - your family, but, the monks were my family too. And I left them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aang, it’s not your fault what happened to them.” Hakoda frowns, wanting to pull Aang into a hug. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know it’s not, and it isn’t that, really. I just. Gyatso loved me, more than I think he was supposed to, and I left him, without saying goodbye, without telling him how much I love him and how much I care about everything he did for me. And it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>hard </span>
  </em>
  <span>because I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>he’s still with me. Cosmically, Gyatso is with me and his love for me still exists and one day I’ll get to see him again but,” Aang takes a deep breath, his cheeks now pink from emotion, instead of just from the cold. “I miss him </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda frowns and once again places a caring hand on Aang’s shoulder. The boy seems to lean into it, though Hakoda can’t tell if it’s intentional or not. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s hard to lose the people we love, even if we know that we’ll join them again someday,” Hakoda says, words feeling clunky and impersonal, even as they make Aang peer up at him. “Your family, the monks…. As you said, they loved you immensely. It’s natural that you have love for them that you want to return. It must be hard to have to give that love to others, and hope that it will reach them.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“...Sometimes,” Aang admits, a little shyly. “It’s hard to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know </span>
  </em>
  <span>that they’re gone when I still feel like they’re here, you know? I have questions and stories to tell them and I always have to save them for later.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The wind blows another sharp gust and Aang shivers through his layers of cotton and wool. Without thinking, Hakoda shifts his arm so that he’s pulling Aang into his side, instead of just placing a comforting grasp on his shoulder. Aang seems to melt into Hakoda’s side, though he can’t tell if it's due to seeking warmth or comfort. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just hard to miss them when I grew up being taught to accept and embrace death as a part of life. It feels like I’m failing Gyatso every time I wish he was here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hakoda tightens his hold on the boy. “Now, I can’t say a whole lot about what you were taught, but I don’t think you’re failing them, Aang.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Hakoda says, heart aching at how quickly Aang looks at him for approval. “Do you think Gyatso would tell you that you were failing him?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang purses his lips for a moment, tilts his head against the leather of Hakoda’s parka. “Probably…. Probably not. Or, if he did, he wouldn’t be mad at me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, then, I see no reason why you should be mad at yourself.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang seems to ponder that statement before shrugging. “I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They sit in the silence for a few more moments, the wind blowing around them, and with a soft stinging sensation growing on their cheeks and noses. Finally, Hakoda gives one last squeeze to Aang, “I think we should head inside, kiddo. It’s getting pretty chilly out here, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang nods, and Hakoda helps him to his feet. His heart is heavy, knowing that this conversation that he walked in on is just one of many that Aang has had, and likely will continue to have, with himself for many years. He brushes off some snow from Aang’s back, thinking of a time when the boy barely came up to his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My butt is frozen,” Aang complains. Hakoda laughs.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what happens when you sit on the snow. Let’s get you warmed up inside. Everyone else is napping, and I think there’s one last sea prune with your name on it— Kidding, kidding, don’t make that face at me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aang scrunches his nose and smiles as Hakoda places a hand on his back to lead him back to the illuminated doorway. He knows that inside is warm and dry and full of sleepy teenagers that will soon awaken and fill the house with laughter. He hopes that for Aang, it’s filled with family too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
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